


act your age, not your shoe size

by WeeBeastie



Series: everlong verse [2]
Category: Black Sails
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anal Sex, Canon Disabled Character, Eventual Smut, Explicit Sexual Content, First Dates, Flint is trans fight me, Hand Jobs, Kissing, M/M, Making Out, Trans Character, Whatever the opposite of meet cute is
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-13
Updated: 2018-08-17
Packaged: 2019-06-26 15:26:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,564
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15665982
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WeeBeastie/pseuds/WeeBeastie
Summary: don't have to be coolto rule my worldain't no particular sign i'm more compatible withi just want your extra time and yourkiss





	1. chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Written as a fill for the following prompt on the BS kink meme:  
> “silver likes to kiss. he really. really. likes to kiss. flint discovers this and is more than happy to indulge him”
> 
> When I saw that I just knew I had to write it because kissing is great, y’all. Big thanks to purplecelery for helping me out with this! <3
> 
> Rated E because there WILL be another chapter and it WILL be explicit porn, so gird your collective loins. 
> 
> Title and lyrics in the summary taken from ‘Kiss’ by Prince because it’s a fucking sexy song and the prompt made me think of it.

They met, as people do these days, on a dating app. Which one, Silver can’t remember anymore. What he does remember with perfect clarity is their first date. 

And their second. 

—-

He’s walking down the sidewalk towards the restaurant, hurrying because he’s almost running late by his own standards (that is, anything less than fifteen minutes early). He’s looking at his phone, trying to remember the name of the place they were supposed to meet - Otter? Dolphin? Walrus, that’s it, Walrus - and as he hurries along he runs right smack into someone. He’s about to apologize when the other person speaks first. 

“Watch where the fuck you’re going, you shit,” the stranger snarls. 

“Fuck you, asshole!” Silver spits in return, glancing up at the face of the man he ran into. He sees a flash of angry green eyes, a blur of freckled skin and red hair, and then the man is shouldering past him, stalking away dramatically down the sidewalk. 

A block later Silver realizes he’s been going the wrong way for some time (he’s never had a good sense of direction), so he whirls around and makes it to Walrus just in time to slide into a two-person table ten minutes before the appointed meeting time. He takes a few minutes to breathe and calm down, and then a stranger appears next to the table. 

“Are you John?” asks a pleasant, almost hopeful-sounding voice, with a rich timbre and the faintest hint of what Silver’s pretty sure is an English accent. 

“Yes,” he says, turning to smile up at the stranger. “James?” he asks. 

“Yes,” the stranger confirms, and sits down across the table from him. “You can call me Flint, though. Or James. Either one, I have no real preference.”

Silver gets a good look at him then - black shirt left rakishly open at his throat, minimalist but eye-catching jewelry, acres of freckled skin, short silky-looking red hair, and deep green eyes. The pictures in his profile did not do him justice. 

Silver is immediately, powerfully attracted to him, and if the crooked smirk on Flint’s face is anything to go by, the feeling might be mutual. Good. 

“So, uh. I guess we do the awkward getting to know you stuff now,” Silver says with a self-conscious laugh. “My name is John Silver but you know that already. I’m 28, and I’m a chef, or trying to be one, anyway. I’m a cat person more than a dog person, I was born missing the lower half of my left leg and I have a small collection of prosthetics for different occasions...um...okay, your turn,” he says, eyeing the cocktail menu and then glancing up at Flint. 

“James Flint, but you know that already,” Flint says, and god but that smirk is almost too sexy. “37, sailor, writer. Born in England, but I’m assuming you can tell that by my accent. I’ve lived here for 14 years. I am also a cat person,” he says. His voice sounds familiar somehow but Silver can’t place it - they hadn’t spoken on the phone prior to meeting, just texted, so it can’t be that. 

Right as he’s starting to make a joke about the pretentiousness of the cocktails on offer, it clicks. 

“You’re the guy!” he blurts out, and Flint looks understandably confused. “The one I ran into on the sidewalk. The asshole!”

Flint’s expression clouds over and his upper lip curls, and yep, definitely the same man. 

“You’re the shit who wasn’t watching where he was going because he was too busy catching Pokémon,” Flint says, drawing himself up imperiously, and Silver hates how attractive he looks when he does that.

“I was looking at your texts to try and find the name of this stupid place because I couldn’t remember it!” Silver says. 

“You were walking in completely the wrong direction,” Flint drawls flatly, his expression one of distaste. 

“I know! I eventually figured that out!” Silver all but shouts. He takes a deep breath through his nose, exhales, then pushes his chair back and stands. “I’m sorry, but I don’t think this is going to work. Have a good night,” he says in the most civil voice he can muster, then turns and leaves Flint sitting there alone. 

The next day, as he works, his thoughts are consumed by Flint to such an extent that he’s angry with himself. They haven’t communicated at all since Silver walked out on their date; he’s stopped himself from texting Flint probably half a dozen times. To apologize, to ask him what the hell is wrong with him, to see if he might still want to hook up - Silver’s feelings about him are all over the place. 

The one thing he is sure of, much to his chagrin, is that he’s still very much attracted to Flint. Not just physically, either, although that is definitely a big part of it. Silver feels a little ridiculous for it, but he can’t let go of the sense that he and Flint have been brought into each other’s lives for a reason, and that if he doesn’t say anything to him, or if he ignores what overtures Flint might make and they don’t give each other a second chance - they’ll both regret it. 

He’s given into the impulse to reach out to Flint on a break while the dinner service is winding down, but when he unlocks his phone to text him, Flint has just - literally, less than a minute ago - sent him a message. 

‘I’m sorry about last night & the way that we met. It was exceedingly New York, but it’s not the kind of impression I wanted to make on you. If you’re still interested, I would very much like to see you again and start over. If not, I understand, and will of course respect you & not contact you again.’

Silver bites his lower lip and thinks. He reads Flint’s message again, and then twice more, before he replies. 

‘You free tomorrow? I’ll make you dinner.’

The next night he finds himself at Flint’s apartment, standing outside his front door with an armful of groceries and his set of knives (he’s sure Flint has a nice kitchen setup, but he’s very particular about his knives). He knocks on the door, and smiles at Flint when he opens it. Flint is dressed a bit more casually than he was for their disastrous first meeting, in worn-looking black jeans and a t-shirt Silver wants to bury his face in. He resists the impulse - for the moment. 

“Hi,” Silver says with a big grin. 

“Hello,” Flint says, smiling back, then steps aside to let Silver into his place. “You brought your own knives?” he asks, sounding amused. 

“Most chefs do that, we’re kind of obsessive about our knives,” Silver says, making a beeline for Flint’s kitchen. It’s nice, just as he thought it’d be. “So I’m cooking just for us tonight, then?” he calls. He can hear Flint rustling around in the living room, and then soft music starts playing throughout the apartment. 

“Yes, my roommate was polite enough to make himself scarce for the evening,” Flint says, leaning on the doorframe and watching Silver with his arms folded over his chest. “What are you making?”

“Roast pork loin, with a glaze I make myself. I can’t tell you what all is in it, but I can tell you that one ingredient is honey,” Silver says, smiling to himself. 

“Sounds good to me,” Flint murmurs. “Can I get you something to drink?” he offers, moving to the fridge as Silver gets down to business making dinner. 

“Glass of wine would be perfect,” Silver says as he works, relaxing into the rhythm of cooking. 

They have dinner together - it’s excellent, if Silver can say so himself - and then decide to relax on the couch and watch a movie after Flint cleans up (he insists, since Silver cooked). They’ve started flirting a little more overtly now, grinning at each other and teasing, getting closer and closer to something happening between them. The air is electric with it, and Silver can practically feel his hair standing on end when they sit down side by side. 

“Can I tell you something?” Flint asks, and reaches out to Silver. He takes his hand gently, and smiles at him. 

“Yeah, anything,” Silver says. They haven’t even picked a movie to watch, but he’s beginning to think that doesn’t really matter to either of them. They wouldn’t watch it anyway. 

“I couldn’t stop thinking about you,” Flint says, turning to face him. “After we met. It was like I— couldn’t let go of you.” His face is serious, his voice low and intimate. 

“I couldn’t stop thinking about you, either,” Silver admits softly, leaning in a little, his face much closer to Flint’s now. He’s relieved they feel the same, and excited, too. 

“Can I kiss you?” Flint asks then, his voice barely above a whisper. 

“Please do,” Silver says, feeling his heart pounding in his chest. 

He leans in, and Flint does too, and everything around him disappears when their lips meet. He’s always loved kissing, almost as much as any other intimate act, and kissing Flint appears to be no exception. He pulls back for just a moment, long enough only to climb into Flint’s lap and straddle him. His boldness startles a cackling laugh out of Flint, and Silver grins. 

“I am so sorry I walked out on you last time,” Silver purrs, kissing along his jawline up to his ear and nibbling it. 

“I did spend quite a while getting ready for you,” Flint murmurs, his hands resting on Silver’s hips. 

“I could tell, you looked really nice,” Silver says breathlessly, and kisses him again, wetly, groaning from deep in his chest. He _lives_ for this. He runs his hands up Flint’s arms, feeling his impressive muscles. 

“Mm, thank you, but that’s not what I meant,” Flint says, smirking, when he pulls back. Silver must look confused, because he elaborates: “It’s not like if someone wants to fuck I can just pull my cock out, now is it?” he says, one eyebrow cocked. Silver can feel his cheeks flush, and Flint’s smirk widens into a grin. He leans in and kisses him again, practically devouring him. He’s so good, _so_ good, and Silver doesn’t want him to ever stop. “There’s preparation involved,” he says against Silver’s lips. 

“Did you...prepare before I came over tonight?” Silver asks before he can stop himself, then bites Flint’s lower lip. He knows it’s a pretty forward thing to ask, but he’s already sitting in Flint’s lap and making out with him, so. 

“Yeah,” Flint says hoarsely, then digs his fingers into Silver’s hips and kisses him again, deep and passionate. Silver melts. 

“I really like kissing,” Silver says when they part, briefly, to catch their breath. He licks his lower lip, tasting Flint and reveling in it. 

“I can tell you do,” Flint says, nosing behind Silver’s ear, nipping him. “Would you like maybe to do some more of it lying down on my bed? No pressure whatsoever, of course.”

“I’d love to,” Silver says sincerely, a shiver of anticipation going through his body. 

“Good, then let’s go,” Flint says, his eyes dark with lust when Silver looks at him. 

Silver stands, takes Flint’s hand in his own, and follows him to his bedroom.


	2. chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I promised eventual smut and here it is!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is basically filthy PWP. Many many thanks to purplecelery for all their help. <3

Silver follows Flint to the bedroom, feeling excitement like electricity all through his body. Somehow he just _knows_ this is gonna be good. 

He turns to face Flint once they’re standing by his bed and Flint kisses him again, kisses him breathless, then pushes him gently down on the bed. 

“Strip,” Flint playfully commands, a hungry look on his face. “And then watch me.”

Silver hurries out of his clothing, yanking his shirt off over his head and squirming out of his jeans, then taking off his prosthetic and setting it on the floor in what he hopes is a nonchalant sort of way. He didn’t bother with underwear beneath his jeans, and he blushes when Flint notices that and gives him a look. 

“You were pretty sure this was gonna happen, mm?” Flint asks as he grasps the hem of his t-shirt and gracefully pulls it off over his head. He’s got a long, thin horizontal scar on his chest, just under his pecs. 

“So were you, Mr. Preparation,” Silver shoots back, grinning.

He watches as Flint slowly unfastens his jeans and pushes them and his underwear down, drinking in the sight of him naked. Flint stands still for a moment, like he’s letting Silver admire him, then grabs something off his dresser and tosses it to Silver. It’s a tube of lube, Silver realizes when he catches it - a good brand, too. 

“Start working yourself up while I get ready,” Flint says, and Silver nods, lying back with his thighs spread apart and his one foot braced flat on the bed. He opens the lube and puts some on his fingers, working two into himself while watching Flint curiously. 

Flint seems to know that Silver is watching, and he makes what he does next into a bit of a show - he picks up a harness from where he’s got it resting on the dresser and puts it on snug around his hips, then selects a cock to use with it. It’s slightly larger than average, Silver notes, but not intimidatingly huge. 

Flint approaches the bed then, with a certain swagger, and kneels over Silver. His gaze is riveted on where Silver is gradually stretching himself open. 

“You want me?” Flint purrs, reaching out and wrapping one hand around Silver’s cock, stroking him slowly, just enough to make his spine tingle. 

“Yeah,” Silver pants, pushing a third finger into himself and arching his back, whining in anticipation. He _needs_ this, needs Flint. “Please.” He fingers himself for a few moments more, then pulls away, lying back on the bed ready and waiting. 

Flint grabs the lube from where Silver’s tossed it aside and smears some on his cock, making a soft rumbling noise deep in his chest. He holds himself in one hand and shifts forward on his knees. 

Then something occurs to Silver. 

“Condom?” he asks, blushing, breathless. He’s not entirely sure if he should be expecting Flint to use one or not. He’s never been in exactly this situation before. 

“Not necessary, we’re safe just like this,” Flint says, raising one eyebrow and smirking a little. “But if you’re more comfortable with—”

“Nope, no, don’t need it. Fuck me,” Silver interrupts, laughing at the demanding tone in his own voice. 

Flint laughs, too, then grasps Silver’s hip in his free hand and pushes slowly into him, hissing through his teeth. Silver moans, his body surging up to meet Flint’s. 

“Fuck,” Silver groans when Flint is fully inside him. 

“Agreed,” Flint pants.

He starts moving in little hitching thrusts, his fingers digging into Silver’s hip. Silver wraps his right leg around his waist and thrusts impatiently against him, wanting more, harder, faster. 

“That’s it, come on,” Silver urges him, moving with him. Flint groans and thrusts deeper into him, grinding against him in a way that makes Silver feel alive all over. “Yeah, like that,” he gasps, shouting hoarsely when Flint takes hold of his cock and starts stroking him. 

“You’re so hot,” Flint pants, and Silver’s cock leaps in his fist (he has always enjoyed being praised). “Ohh, you like that, mm?” Flint asks, grinning. “I mean it, you’re _ridiculously_ hot,” he says, punctuating the compliment with a good, hard thrust. 

“Fuck me,” Silver whimpers, squirming underneath Flint, thrusting up into his fist and rocking against his cock, caught between two intensely pleasurable sensations. 

“God help me,” Flint murmurs, then takes Silver’s legs over his arms and bends them back toward Silver’s body, practically folding him in half as he fucks him deep and hard. If he thought he felt good before, he’s downright delirious with it now. 

“More, like that, ahh,” Silver pants, trembling. The scent of them is thick in the air and he’s sweating all over - he’s pretty sure he felt sweat drip off Flint and on to him, too - and he feels so good. He reaches up to tangle one hand in Flint’s hair, pulling on it none too gently as their bodies work together, the sound of skin on skin echoing through the room. He’s so close, he’s right on the edge— 

“Come for me,” Flint rumbles, and Silver cries out, throwing one arm up over his face as he comes all over his own stomach and chest. 

“Goddamn,” Silver wheezes as he recovers, moving his arm off his face. Flint has gone still on top of him, idly rubbing his thigh. 

“Can you handle more?” Flint asks, meeting his gaze and holding eye contact. He thrusts experimentally, gentler than before, and Silver whimpers. “Mm?”

“Yeah,” Silver says, catching his breath. “Keep going.”

Flint grins and starts back at it, this time thrusting slow and deep, grinding into Silver such that his spent cock twitches and starts valiantly trying to rally again. 

“ _Fuck_ ,” he breathes, watching as Flint closes his eyes and tips his head back, his brow furrowed in concentration. “Yeah, like that. You’re so good, you feel so good inside me,” he says, reaching out to pinch one of Flint’s nipples. He shivers. 

“Keep talking,” Flint requests, sounding breathless, his thighs shaking. “Please,” he adds, then bites his lower lip. He looks like a god, to Silver. 

“I’ve been thinking about doing this with you since we met. I was so mad at myself, I couldn’t stop thinking about how good it would be to fuck you,” Silver says, wrapping one hand around his half-hard cock and starting to play with it while Flint fucks him. “I knew it would be amazing.”

Flint opens his eyes then and watches while Silver touches himself. A flush spreads up his stomach and chest, and then he thrusts twice more before coming with a loud shout of ecstasy.

He pulls free of Silver, who groans at the loss, then bats his hand away so he can start stroking Silver’s cock instead of leaving him to do it himself. 

“Can I touch you, too?” Silver asks while Flint jerks him off, whimpering at the feel of Flint’s slick, rough hand on his already sensitive cock. It’s almost too much. 

Flint nods quickly, murmuring a ‘yeah’ of assent under his breath and hurriedly taking the harness off with one hand (impressive). He settles on his side next to Silver, stroking him quickly while Silver reaches over to touch him at the apex of his thighs. He’s incredibly wet, practically dripping, and Silver’s mouth waters at the idea of tasting Flint there. He saves that impulse for another time and starts rubbing and stroking Flint’s cock, grinning when Flint grunts and pushes up against his fingers. 

“Does that feel good?” he asks, then leans in to kiss him messily as they jerk each other off. He squeezes around the head of Flint’s cock with his thumb and forefinger, watching him to make sure he isn’t hurting him. Flint curses under his breath and thrusts into the tight circle of Silver’s fingers and yeah, no, definitely not hurting him. 

“ _Mm_ ,” Flint purrs against his lips. Silver thrusts into his hand and squeezes him again, wondering dazedly how he got this lucky. He strokes Flint quickly, flicking his thumb over the head and smirking against Flint’s mouth when he curses again. 

“You’re so hot,” he says, and bites Flint’s lip gently, then eases his tongue into his mouth. He’s still got his tongue in Flint’s mouth when he comes for the second time, shuddering and twitching in Flint’s hand. He feels Flint come, too, a few moments later - he grinds into Silver’s grip, and then there’s even more wetness than before and Flint is keening into Silver’s mouth, shaking all over. 

They pull apart to catch their breath and Silver immediately puts two of his fingers into his mouth, tasting the musky, slightly salty flavor of Flint there. He definitely needs to get his mouth on him soon. 

Flint puts an arm around his shoulders and Silver curls in close, nuzzling his sweaty chest. 

“You alright?” Flint asks softly as he holds Silver. 

“More than alright. I’m great,” he says honestly, grinning. He raises his head to look at Flint, taking in the disheveled hair, kiss-swollen lips, and pleased, gleaming eyes. “You?”

“Same,” Flint says, chuckling. He’s quiet for a moment, like he’s considering his next words carefully. “So, can you stay the night? You don’t have to, just...thought I’d ask.”

Silver thinks about it. He’s not working until the following evening and he told his roommates he might be out all night - it’s true he’s only just met Flint, but there’s something about him that already feels so familiar. 

“Yeah. I’d like that,” he says, then ducks into Flint’s chest again and shuts his eyes, sighing happily. 

“Good,” Flint rumbles, and Silver feels him nuzzling his hair. 

Eventually, Flint will pull away and go get something to clean up with, but for now they just lie still, basking in each other’s affection. Silver can’t help but feel like this is the beginning of something truly great.


End file.
